This isn't mine (nothing notable happened my first time out, including seeing anything shootable) but my partner has a good one he tells to anyone who hasn't heard it yet.

He was from Long Island, always worked in the city and hadn't ever been out hunting in the boonies, so after he got out of the Army in the mid 60s and came out west to work, a few of the "guys" offered to take him out with them to their hunting grounds out near John Day (OR).

Since he was new to it, the old hands put him at the top of a draw to wait with his rifle, and they headed roundabout toward the bottom where they would start a drive back toward the top, hopefully flushing a nice bull elk past our hero.

After about an hour, our hero was sitting on his stump when he heard a commotion down below, and it grew louder. Suddenly
a handful of cows burst from the reprod, followed by a nice 5-point Bull. They all rushed by less than 20 yards away.

Just moments later, the old hands broke out on top, one at a time, huffing and puffing, looking around for where the bull was laying. Nothing. "Did you see any elk come past here?" they asked. Our hero says "Oh, yeah! They were magnificent!"

The rifle was still fully loaded, bore clean and dry. He was so mesmerized at the sight of those animals he hadn't even raised his rifle.

I can appreciate that! Those animals are a incredably awsome sight. especially at close range in the wild. and for a first time hunter I can imagine he was just in awe! I'll bet he will remember those elk the rest of his days.... even if he didn't raise his rifle.

Thanks for the story. Makes me remember seeing and shooting at my first deer.

markw76,
I bet that guy has no regrets (the old hands might have some!).

My first elk in the early 90's was quite memorable for me. My hunting partner and I had split up. I was the only one holding a tag, and he stayed on the track of a 6-point bull that gave us the slip earlier in the day. I hoofed it up to the ridge after coming across it's bed in the timber, watching it's backtrail. Easing up over the ridge, there was a corndog spike 50-75 yards away, laying in the sun and snow, unaware. I didn't even have an elk rifle, borrowing my hunting partners pre-'64 mod 70 270 Win. He didn't even know what hit him when I put that bullet in his neck.

We tried to drag the whole elk for awhile with very limited success, so halved it and got each half down to a drainage that we got 4-wheeler access to. Then after a few weeks, I found out I didn't have near enough freezer space and had to "rent" space from friends!